


i’ll always be the way i am.

by flustraaa



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Criminal Minds RPF
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt Spencer Reid, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Spencer Reid, Protective Derek Morgan, Sassy Spencer Reid, Sleepy Spencer Reid, Spencer Reid Angst, Spencer Reid Fluff, Spencer Reid Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24762241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flustraaa/pseuds/flustraaa
Summary: “whatcha gonna do, pretty boy? tell me a fact and get a headache because you’re concussed?”“morgan, i will beat you up,” he pushes himself and immediately settles back down against his hospital bed, “after the following messages from your sponsors.”“behave boys.” jj warns.“that was a terrible ad,” morgan mutters, before groaning when jj throws a pillow at him.
Relationships: Spencer Reid & Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid & David Rossi, Spencer Reid & Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid & Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid & Henry LaMontagne, Spencer Reid & Jack Hotchner, Spencer Reid & Jennifer “JJ” Jareau, Spencer Reid & Penelope Garcia, Spencer Reid & The BAU Team
Comments: 13
Kudos: 649





	i’ll always be the way i am.

Reid wakes up to flashing lights and an EMT is hovering over him, poking and prodding as she checks his vitals. JJ and Morgan are sitting to his left and they are the first ones to notice his return to consciousness. 

“Hey, Spence,” JJ coos, “how’re you feeling?” 

He blinks, everything is a bit blurry and his head is roaring with the tell-tale pain of a concussion. 

“What happened?” He murmurs, reaching a hand up to touch his face. His voice is groggy and rough when it comes out, and alarm floods his system. He’s either been out for a while or he got knocked out completely cold. 

Morgan grabs his hand before he can bring it to his temple. Reid glances over at Morgan dizzily, and when he sees the poorly masked trepidation on the older agent’s features, his eyebrows furrow. 

He looks back to JJ, trying to sit up but just as the world whites out he feels the EMT push him back down by his shoulder, sounding incredibly unamused as she murmurs, “ _whoa_ _there_ , tiger, you’re not quite there yet. Lay down.” 

Spencer‘s eyes flit back over at Morgan and JJ, repeating, “What happened?”

“We’re not sure,” Morgan states simply, his shrug uncomfortably helpless— it’s a side of Morgan that rarely ever comes out. “you and Prentiss split and we didn’t hear from you for an hour. We found you right before we found Collins. You were crunched up between some crates and your head was bleeding.” 

“Can you tell me your name?” The EMT interrupts, “And your birthday?” 

“Spencer Reid,” He croaks, throwing a glance in her direction, “and October twenty-eighth, nineteen-eighty-one.” 

She glances up at JJ and Morgan for confirmation, nodding when they confirm his answers. 

“How long was I out?” He mutters trying shift but the EMT stops him from moving and he lets out at frustrated sigh.

“There was a lot of blood, if I had to guess I’d say about forty five minutes?” JJ says, but it’s almost more of a question than an answer. “You woke up after we got to you, but you’ve been going in and out for a while. If I had to guess you probably went in and out for a while after you got hit. There was signs that you moved around after you got knocked out.”

Spencer nods, “my head is pounding.”

“I’m not surprised,” Morgan says, voice oddly calm for how scared he looks.

“Is there a trashcan?” He blurts, watching as JJ’s eyebrows furrow.

She seems to recognise the urgency to his question though, because just as he leans over to throw up, she shoves a trashcan under him.

Surprisingly, Morgan’s freehand comes up, rubbing soothing circles into Reid’s back as he chokes on his bile, “you’re gonna be okay, kid.”

“I thought you didn’t do vomit?” Reid manages after he’s stopped dry heaving.

“I don’t,” Morgan raises a brow, “but I do know that I like being taken care of when I’m sick.”

JJ hands him a wipe and Reid runs it over his mouth, tossing it in the trashcan as well.

“Thanks,” Spencer finally mumbles, eyes fluttering.

“I know you want to rest, but I need you to keep your eyes open,” The EMT says suddenly, and Reid realised that he must’ve been nodding off. “I just need to make sure you don’t have anything else that gives me reason to worry about it.”

“Sorry,” He mumbles, and JJ takes his hand, “just tired.”

“I know,” The EMT reassures, her voice soft, as if she were talking to a child, “You’ll be able to rest soon. Just a while longer, okay?” 

Once they’ve run all tests, Hotch and Morgan sit in the room with him while he waits for the Doctor to tell him what the next steps are.

“How are you feeling?” Hotch asks, giving a once over Reid.

Spencer, for his part, is sitting criss cross applesauce, sipping on some grape juice.

“Like I have a severe concussion,” he grumbles woefully, “I just want to sleep.”

“Alright, Spence,” JJ breathes as she walks into the room, Garcia close in tow, “I have a pillow and a blanket from your apartment, as well as some books and other little things.”

“I got you some water, unfortunately, Boy Wonder, caffeine is not in the cards for you so I got you some sparkling water to sip on for the time being,” Penelope says softly, and they set their respective bags on the empty seat in the far corner of the room.

“My brain is _melting_ ,” he mumbles, making grabby hands for the bag of pretzels that Garica extends to him. “I’m _dying_.”

“And I thought Garcia was dramatic,” Morgan mutters, and Spencer turns to shoot a sharp glare at Morgan; but he ends up groaning and pressing a hand to his forehead, “Or maybe you’re not being dramatic.”

As if willing her into existence, the Doctor poked her head in with a soft smile, Spencer’s chart in her hands.

“Hi Doctor Reid,” She chirps, voice soft, “I have good news and some bad news. The good news is that you don’t have any type of internal bleeding or amount of swelling that requires surgery. The bad news is you do have a mild— which mind you is bordering on severe concussion, and you need stitches. From my charts, if appears that you have already gotten those, so perhaps it’s not as bad as it seems.”

“So he has to stay here overnight?” JJ asks.

“Assuming tonight goes well, yes. Considering he is walking a fine line between mild and TBI, it may be closer to three nights, but that’s a bridge we’ll cross when we get there,” she states, “It seems like everything is going well, and as soon as I check your pupils and vitals I’ll dim the lights and be out of your hair.”

True to her word, Reid endures a few more moments of being checked over. The lights flash in his eyes genuinely make him crave death for a moment.

“Now, I’m sure you know, but drink lots of water and you can get some rest.” She redirects her attention to the various members of the team scattered about, “Now, if all of you stay here make sure you get someone immediately if something that seems irregular happens, okay?”

She receives murmurs of agreement, and sends a smile to the team, dimming the lights on the way out.

“Alright, Spence,” JJ murmurs, returning her attention to Reid, “you heard her. Lay down.”

He doesn’t take much convincing, he simply lays back, head on the pillow. His eyes close before Morgan can even begin to pull up the blanket, and by time he’s finished the kid is down for the count.

“We don’t need to be worried, right?” Hotch asks suddenly, glancing around the room.

“No,” Rossi responds, leaning back in his chair, “He’ll he just fine.” 

When Spencer wakes up the next morning, his head is pounding ever more terribly from the lack of caffeine he comes to one conclusion, and one conclusion only.

He hates everything.

Emily snorts loudly at the look on his face, causing Reid to groan and throw an arm over his eyes.

“I hate you,” he grumbles, pressing his face into the pillow beneath him, “I hope you have to eat brussels sprouts for the rest of your life.”

Emily gasps, mouth ajar— and he certain that if he wasn’t confused she’d thump the base of his head, “take that _back_!”

“No,” he moans, “I’m _allergic_ to light.”

“ _Oh_ , you big baby,” She rolls her eyes, holding out a pair of sunglasses in one hand and a water bottle in the other. “Drink.” 

He reaches for the sunglasses first, slipping them over his eyes in a desperate attempt to block out the hospital lights and sun from the window. Slowly, he takes the bottle sipping at it as the others— who aren’t snoring loud enough to make his ears ring, return with coffees in hand.

“Can I—“ he starts, gaze trained on the coffee.

Garcia cuts him off before he can get the words out, “Absolutely not, concussion boy.”

His lips pull into a frown and he forces more water down, “I’m going to die. The question is just is it going to be the concussion, lack of caffeine, or by my own hand.”

Rossi bites back a chuckle and Reid brings up one hand, pointing to his eyes and then Rossi; fingers spread far apart and lips biting down on his lip in a manor that sends Rossi into a fit a snickers.

“Sleep with one eye open, old man,” Reid mutters, “You never know when I might go Edgar Allen Poe on you.”

They just stare blankly at him.

“The tell-tale heart? Raven of—“

“Yeah, no,” Rossi cut him off, eyes narrowing, “I’m just trying to figure out how you’re planning on murdering me and shoving me in the floorboards when you complain about how bright the lights are.”

Spencer sips on his water, before thoughtfully responding, “Touché.” 

“Alright, Kid,” Morgan sighs, shutting their trunk of his car. “You gotta stay with me because there’s no way in hell I’m staying at Books R Us for the night. You’re staying in my guest bedroom, do you need to grab anything from home that JJ and Garcia didn’t?”

Spencer mutely shakes his head, clambering into the front seat and adjusting his sunglasses and snapback.

The drive is relatively silent, and it’s only at the end that Morgan realises it’s because the kid conked our, forehead against the window and hat pushed back up. The image alone is enough to make Morgan huff out an amused breath.

Morgan leaves the car running and slowly moves all the stuff that JJ and Garcia insisted that he take back for the kid. Once everything settled in front of his door he turns off the car and opens the door, only for the Kid to topple down into his arms.

He lets out a gasp and a muted curse that’s mostly cut off when Morgan catches him before he can hit the ground and give himself internal bleeding.

“Why?” He wheezes, clutching his chest and he slowly separates from Morgan, “Why did you not try to wake me up before opening the door?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought slamming the doors _four times_ would be enough to stir you, sleeping beauty,” Morgan says, tone slow and sardonic. “I’m starting to think you could sleep through anything.”

“Yeah, you might have a point. I didn’t wake up to your _snoring_ last night,” Reid shoots back, “I think you have a deviated septum. You might want to get that checked out.”

“Might want to get that checked out,” Morgan parrots, throwing his tone all over, “Go inside, before I make you sleep in Clooney’s dog bed.” 

Spencer mutters, ‘ _Clooney’s dog bed meh meh meh_ ’, to himself, mocking Morgan’s hand gestures as he walks through the front door. 

Morgan suddenly realised that perhaps twenty four hours alone with his little brother is not as good of an idea as he originally thought.

“Hey, little shit!” Reid turns around with narrowed eyes, and morgan smirks because the kid actually responded to ‘ _little shit_ ’. This time his voice comes out softer, “Go take a nap, you get sassy when you’re tired.”

“I love you too, asshat,” it’s with that comment Reid disappears down the hall, and Morgan’s left thinking that maybe this won’t be so bad after all. 

Morgan reaches the guest room, stopping in the frame as he looks at Reid. The kid is out like a light, book propped open on his chest and Clooney laying on the puppy pillow at the base of the bed.

“Good Boy, Clooney,” Morgan grins, taking Clooney’s face in his hands as he scratches about, “Are you protecting your friend?”

With one last pat, Morgan rises to his feet, before slapping a pillow on Reid’s knees. The kid doesn’t budge, but Morgan isn’t in the business of throwing pillows on concussed people’s heads.

“Kid,” He calls, drawling our the syllables, shaking Reid’s shoulder. “Kid, get up!”

Clooney seems to take the hint, rising to his paws and looking at the scene before him. Morgan, for his part, whistles and Clooney doesn’t hesitate jumping on the bed and licking Reid’s face.

“Ugh, Clooney,” Reid mumbles, book falling to the floor as he opens his eyes and reaches up to scratch Clooney’s neck, “That was gross.”

“He’s the first dog I’ve ever seen disregard the Reid Effect,” Morgan says, gaining Reid’s attention, “Are you hungry?”

Reid seems to think for a moment, “yeah. I’m kinda hungry.”

“Do you care what for?” Morgan asks, already walking toward the door.

“Nope.” But his face sours quickly, “Actually, no salad.”

Morgan finds himself laughing, “you got it kid.” 

An hour later, the door bell rings and Penelope bursts in holding numerous take out bags. 

“Where is Boy Wonder?” She questions immediately, setting down the bags.

“Uncle Spencer?” Henry asks excitedly, bouncing against JJ’s hip, “Mommy! Can I say hi?”

“Me too!” Jack says, looking up at Hotch, “I wanna see Spencer!”

“Yes, my golden boys,” Penelope says, taking both their hands as JJ sets Henry down. “Let’s go.”

“Guest room!” Morgan calls from behind them. 

Penelope holding the boys hands as she peeks into the guest room, blinking at the sight before her.

Spencer is curled up on his side, head resting on Clooney’s side, an arm thrown over the pup as they both nap on the bed.

“Is he asleep?” Jack blurts suddenly, snapping her out of her daze.

He has a wicked look in his eyes and he makes eye contact with Henry. At once the two boys pull away from Penelope, rushing toward the bed. Clooney scurries our from under Spencer’s head just as the boys throw themselves onto Spencer.

Spencer groans, bringing his hands up to the two little boy’s backs, “Hey, guys. What are you doing here?”

“We got dinner!” Henry grins, and Spencer nods, squinting.

“Cool, buddy! What are you guys gonna have?” He asks, and Penelope can practically see how much Spencer’s head must be aching from the noise.

“Boys,” She says, sitting on the edge of the bed, and effectively cuts off Henry’s excited rant about chicken tenders and fries. “Why don’t we play the whisper game? Whoever can talk quieter wins.”

They nod excitedly, launching back into their tales of their dinners in a soft whisper.

Penelope looks at Spencer to see him already staring at her.

“Thank you,” he mouths, and she just sends him a smile.

After dinner they all settle on Derek’s couch, watching the Goofy Movie while Spencer talks to the boys who are paying more attention to their fort than the actually movie.

After the excited and whispers and giggles die down, the team decides that they’ll keep the movie on. They see enough action in their daily life to be able to truly enjoy a kids movie here or there.

“Hey, Kid!” Morgan says softly, walking over to the fort and flipping up the mouth to reveal the three boys laying on their stomach. “Do you want to join the adults— oh.”

“What?” Hotch questions, trying to get a view around Morgan.

Morgan moves out of the room and the room absolutely coos at the sight before them.

Spencer lies on his stomach, head rested on Jack’s frog pillow pet, arms wrapped under it. Henry and Jack lie perpendicular on opposite sides of Spencer, heads resting on his shoulders and back respectfully.

The two little boys let out quiet snores, cuddled under the blankets they’d crawled in with, holding their stuffed animals. For Jack, it’s a little frog that Haley had given him years ago, and for Henry, it’s a little bear that Penelope had given him for his first birthday.

It’s so heart wrenchingly innocent, that can’t help but take pictures, though the motive range from blackmail to mass production to.

And when Spencer finds the picture framed on JJ’s desk after coming back to work, he pouts for a month. 


End file.
